Dreaming of Sundays
by saiyuri-dahlia
Summary: Working with Mukuro, Hiei has been away from Kurama for two years. The separation is bearable but Kurama still wants to see Hiei...if only for one day. Fluff. Pairing: KuraHiei


Story Title: Dreaming of Sundays

Disclaimer: I don't own YYH.

Author's Notes: Consumed by Hellfire has a lot of depressing scenes, and there's only so much sadness I can write until I have to write something happy. Thus this has been created. Enjoy this break while I go and work on incorporating happy scenes into Hellfire…

Story Title: Dreaming of Sundays

I'm dreaming of Sundays, Kurama read from a young man's T-shirt as he and everyone else made their way up and down the busy street. Americans complain of five o'clock rush hour…

They've never walked down a street in Japan.

The air was laced with body odor, cigarette smoke, and the faint scent of exhaust fumes. Cars past quickly like everyone's steps so he wasn't completely exposed to the noxious toxins all the time. Foot traffic slowed as he passed a large group of tourists buying ramen from one of the many hand-towed street vendors. His unsteady waltz continued as he tiptoed and slid around a souvenir shop's large outside display of lanterns and masks. Looking ahead, the path seemed clear of any similar obstacles.

He passed an American wearing a T-shirt with the hiragana of _gaijin_ across his chest. Locking eyes, Kurama quickly nodded and smiled in a polite, friendly manner. He returned the expression and went on with his vacation. The American seemed so happy—who was Kurama to spoil it by telling him the word was a slur against foreigners? As they say, ignorance is bliss. Then again, maybe he knows. Americans are strange people.

Another young man wore an "I'm dreaming of Sundays" shirt, except, whether an intentional pun or otherwise by the design company, there was a cartoon of a sundae below the message. Sighing and telling himself to quit reading shirts, Kurama put his hands in his pockets and peered upward to the gray tomb of the sky. Hiei...he thought in a dreary sighing tone. Is the sky this bleak in Makai? How long will she keep you? Days are turning into months, months into years. We've been separated for so long.

A female classmate called his name. Perking up momentarily, he smiled and waved to her. Quickly he returned to his former state. Mukuro, do you like using him as your personal chore boy? Can't you or someone else take some of his work? It isn't fair. You're working him to his grave. Looking back up at the gray overcast, he noted that it looked like rain. Again.

A hand friendly smacked him on the back. "Shuuichi, I see you've taken off your lab coat for once!" By the sound of her sweet yet loud voice, he knew the boisterous Sachiko Kodo. "Glad to know you actually own clothes. Hahaha…" her laughter trailed off as her wide dark eyes stared into his. Sachiko's plain, rounded face drooped from its usual happy cheer to a concerned sadness. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine, Miss Kodo, " his reply bore little emotion. Obviously lying, she noted. Shuuichi was acting strange. He barely looked at her. His shoulders were drooped. His head hung. His eyes watched the ground. Shuuichi seemed…out of it. Hmm, she thought as she rubbed her chin, must be hard work to get all those perfect scores. Lots of lonely nights studying. Spending hours at school doing…belch….science. He's a nice guy but I've never seen him hang out with anyone in class. He looks so sad. It's not right! Fine, Sachiko, it's your mission today to make Shuuichi Minamino smile. She bunched her fists at her sides tightly as her body and smile shook with excitement and anticipation. Do your best, Sachiko! For Shuuichi!

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the girl was smiling and silently shaking with laughter. Something was up. He could sense the thick waves alerting him that she was planning something, what he could not fish from his impressions. Kurama didn't really care what kind of rainbow, sugar-coated thoughts she was having—all he wanted was to be left alone in the busy gray streets of reality. Silence passed through them. Kurama thought she would leave after reading the blatant signals that he wanted solitude, but she followed him.

Her mind was working at a rapid pace now. What to do? Where to go? She had to do something to accomplish her mission. Ah! Her face lit up in recognition, there it is. Waiting patiently, Sachiko judged the perfect timing. Not now. Not now. She eyed carefully as they drew closer to their destination. NOW! Quickly grabbing Shuuichi's wrist tightly, she ran inside a small shop and half-dragged his protesting body with her.

"Why'd you do that—" his words trailed off as he noticed the loudness of his voice and the workers and other customers in the small café staring at him. She just stared smiling and silently chuckling at him. Taking hold of his hand, she led him to one of the window tables and they took their seats.

"Miss Kodo," he kept his voice low, "why are we here?"

Her answer was short and not what Kurama was hoping for, "You'll see."

Soon after, a young waiter came by to take their orders," Sir, what would you like—"

Kurama waved his hands back and forth. He interrupted the waiter, "Oh, no, no. I don't want anything. In fact, I've got to be going." Kurama rose. Immediately, Sachiko's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, the force jerked him back into his seat.

"We'll be having two sundaes, please. Thank you," she smiled sweetly as the waiter nodded and left with their order.

Kurama glared at her. Her smile continued as she twirled the end of one of her long, thick black ponytails. Her hair…those dark strands, Kurama sighed and stared at his blurred reflection in the clear finish on the wooden table. When was the last time his hands ran through Hiei's hair? He missed the smell of his freshly showered hair still dripping wet. Most of the time he went to bed still damp and Kurama would wake up, having rolled onto a wet, smelly pillow, in the morning. Right now, that didn't sound too bad.

The rain came in long streaks. Umbrellas blossomed in plentiful and various colors and those without were soaked to the bone in a cold, heavy shower. Some dodged and rushed to the safety of open shops. Others kept on walking, taking the full brunt of life head on. He stared out the window, thinking nothing for once, but sympathizing with the weather. Sachiko sighed. She hated rain, at least the bleakness of it. Why can't there be a happy rain for once?

"I'm dreaming of sunny days," she smiled and lightly laughed. He was not amused.

Their sundaes came. Like a greedy child, Sachiko dove into hers while Kurama didn't lift his spoon, instead sat staring. Hiei would be in heaven right now. He loved ice cream, his sweet snow. Taking his time, he would savor each spoonful, letting the paste of milk, ice, sugar, and flavoring slide down his tongue and throat on its own. Kurama's heart sank as his stomach sickened at the sight of the cold confection.

Sachiko peered up from her bowl and watched as his melting sundae began to rise toward the rim of the bowl. "What's wrong? Is yours no good?"

"I don't like sweets." Which was true. Kurama didn't like sweets like Hiei. He usually just ate Hiei's cherry and some of the whipped cream whenever they shared a sundae. Maybe next time, he'll finally take his offer and take a bite of ice cream. Hmm, that little shard of miracle will have to be another day—he wasn't about to waste it with Sachiko.

Her lips pouted," Aww, come on. Everybody likes sweets." Kurama repeated that he didn't.

Plan one. Failed. Come on, Sachiko! Think quickly. "Oh there's this new samurai movie out. Would you like to see it with me?"

"I already have." Yusuke and Kuwabara dragged him along to get his mind off Hiei. They failed. He watched those samurai actors as they swung and fought one another in their honorable war. Yusuke and Kuwabara were engrossed in the action, following each scene closely as if merge the movie and their own lives into a fabricated memory. Kurama was thinking about Hiei. He harshly compared and picked apart the stance of each samurai, how they held their swords, and the obvious lack of skill they had. Hiei wouldn't even bother to draw his katana to such amateurs.

Sachiko puffed her cheeks, "What's wrong, Shuuichi? You're not happy and I want to know why."

Kurama stood, " None of your business." Quickly he stormed away in a fouler mood than he was before.

Everything reminded him of Hiei. His eyes were veiled in Hiei vision. Just come home. I want to see you. Told me to wait for you, well I have been! But how long? Forever? I'm not being dramatic…I just really want to see you. What? You don't share my feelings? You'd rather be working…than to come home to tell me you're okay. The least you could do. Hiei…

Kurama stopped beneath the awning of a small convenience store. Running his hand through his hair, he couldn't believe the exchange that had just occurred. He was arguing in his thoughts with Hiei, who wasn't even present. Mentally arguing with Hiei! Gah…what was becoming of him?

Laughing at himself, he stared up at the sky and spoke as if Hiei was beside him," You're driving me insane. I love you that much that I'm worrying myself into an asylum."

After making a quick purchase in the store, Kurama returned home. His mother made a fuss over his wet clothes. She handed him a towel for his hair as he quickly made his way up to his bedroom to change. Opening his door, Kurama froze, stunned. His whole body was numb, yet tingling. The small plastic bag slipped from his fingers. Heart racing, he was filled with such energy that his manner was unrecognizable from seconds ago.

"Hiei…"

The fire demon smiled from Kurama's bed. Giving him a quick onceover, Hiei returned his greeting, "You're wet, Fox."

"It's been two years and that's all you have to say to me?" Kurama smirked as he tossed his shirt into the hamper and slipped on a new one.

"Doesn't feel like I've been gone two years…" But he guessed he had been gone that long…oops. Having seen and felt his naked body before, Hiei was not abashed when Kurama unzipped and changed his jeans in front of him.

"You have. It's been like a prison sentence for me."

Hiei nodded, apologetically. Working for Mukuro is a prison sentence. Never ever, under any circumstances, make a bet with her. Hiei foolishly did and now he's stuck as her servant for five years, doing whatever task or mission she so desires. Of course, Kurama doesn't know the details of his situation. It's bad enough—he didn't need his lover playfully chiding him.

"Here." Kurama held the plastic bag in front of Hiei. He opened it and looked inside. His eyes grew wide and his expression childlike. Words escaped his lips. "Pocky. I know how you love sweets."

The bag nearly slipped through his fingers as Kurama leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Hiei. Their fingers ran through each other's hair, their eyes locked, and their smiles broadened across their faces. A light laugh bubbled from inside Kurama, still not able to believe this moment is happening. He's here. The flesh is real. Everything is real.

"A little while longer and I'll be with you permanently," Hiei said as Kurama kissed the top of his head.

Hmm, smells like Makai…he noted. Later they would have to shower together, then it would smell better. "Really? You're going to make me wait more."

Unfortunately, Hiei's expression read. It won't be that bad. "I struck a deal with Mukuro to give me a day off. I'll be here every Sunday."

Good. Kurama smiled. They kissed. Waiting had its one perk—their lips were so deprived of one another, they were almost in shock when they finally met once again. Waiting certainly made their kisses better. Lying down on his bed, Kurama lay awake, running his hands through Hiei's hair as the young demon drifted off to a warm sleep beside his body. In time, the fox boy's eyes grew heavy and with a smile on his face, he wrapped his arms around Hiei.

I'm already dreaming of Sundays.

—end story

Author's Notes: I kind of noticed that the beginning is still depressing and Kurama is a lovesick fox, which seems to be a common theme in my work. I guess I have to work on making pure fluff…


End file.
